Built, sir, built! When my wife and I saw it on our way to the station this morning, we could hardly believe our eyes. But my coachman—who's not given to imagination—saw it as plain as we did. [Horace hears all this with stupefaction at first, and then with growing comprehension.] And, considering I only gave you the commission yesterday afternoon, I should like to know how the devil you managed to put up such a place in the time?
Pringle.
My dear sir, as a professional man, let me assure you it would be impossible—quite impossible. It must have been due to some effect of mirage.
Mr. Wackerbath.
Mirage, indeed! We got out of the carriage and climbed the slope and went all over the building! Are you going to tell me we've been all over a mirage?
Horace.
[Half to himself.] Oh, the blithering old idiot!
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Turning on him suddenly.] Are you addressing me, sir?
Horace.